


If I Was Better

by Windify



Series: My English translations [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Hate, Hate Speech, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Misses Tony Stark, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Blaming Peter Parker, Self-Harm, Suicide, Trauma, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21862303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windify/pseuds/Windify
Summary: Five times Morgan has something to say to Peter and the one time she didn’t say anything.[Read the tags; there is self-harming.]
Relationships: Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: My English translations [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582834
Comments: 37
Kudos: 176





	1. 0

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Kdybych byl lepší](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21409420) by [Windify](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windify/pseuds/Windify). 



> Hi! So, this is a translation of my fiction from my first language to English. I’m not very good English speaker/writer but I just wanted to share my ideas/this with you guys, ’cause fan fiction is never enough. So, yeah. That’s it.  
> So sorry for spelling/grammar mistakes, I’m sure there will be more then one! xD

Some days, Peter couldn’t even look at Morgan Stark.

It wasn’t like that he didn’t like the small girl, who he even though they weren’t relative has seen as his little sister. He loved her, adored, he would give his life for her.

It was what she represented.

When he was looking at her, he saw the legacy Tony Stark left here. He saw a daughter growing up without her father who sacrifice himself for the sake of the universe. He was a little child who lost it’s parent so anyone else can reunite with their families.

He saw the huge mistake he did when he passed the gauntlet away on the battlefield instead of putting it on his hand and snapping. Radioactivity has circulated in his body after the spider bite, maybe he would, unlike Mister Stark, survive it. And even if not, what else could he lose? Sure, aunt May would’ve mourn, but he was certain that she would’ve get over it eventually. After all, when she had allowed him save the world as Spider-Man, she was well aware of the risks that this job brought along.

But Tony Stark, he lost everything. He won’t see her daughter grow up, he won’t threaten her suitors, nor he won’t lead her to the altar. He won’t help her when her first love breaks her heart, he won’t argue with her teachers about her grades.

Because Tony Stark died as a hero so his daughter can live in a better world.

Peter knew that no matter how much he yearned for it, he couldn’t change the past. But he could change the future, at least try to arrange what happens next.

He had implored that he won’t let Tony’s sacrifice come to nothing. He’ll look after Morgan for whatever cost. He’ll arange she lives in a world Tony had wanted for her, that she is loved and safe.

Even if Morgan didn’t return this sentiment.

Even if he could die thereat.

He will do anything so she can be happy.


	2. ~1~

Peter knows first hand that no one can replace a father, same a mother. Have someone who stands by your side and rise you is a warm, loving feeling, but beside it still stands the imaginary “what if”.

Yet he tried. He couldn’t imagine a world where he couldn’t even try it. He already disappointed Tony enough, he didn’t have to add fuel to fire by not being interested in the most important person in Tony’s life.

He visits the lake house as often as he could. He’s spent nearly every long break and tried visiting even at weekends but Georgia was still half a day ride from New York.

Despite his common visits or meetings when Pepper and Morgan were visiting New York, Morgan remained cold to him and suspiciously watched him. He’s tried to make conversationes with her, he talked about everything he though she could be interested in, and tried to avoid anything what could remind her of the lost parent.

But she seemed to ignore his futile attempts. Her words has had an undertone he couldn’t solve, a mix of fear and anger and dullness and he didn’t like it at all.

Even though he was waiting, didn’t let up. “It want a little bit time,” Pepper once told him after his another failed attempt when Morgan refused to play someting with him. “She know you only from the stories. Tony has always told her that you’ll get along well and will tyrannize him together, you know?”

He didn’t know, how could he? He didn’t think he could ever heard this. “He talked about me?” he asked, the shock clear all over his face.

And Pepper just shortly, sadly laughed. “Of course he did, Peter. Always only the best.”

It left him absolutely speechless for a few miutes and with a topic he used to think about at nights when he was looking and the stars and thought what could be.

If Morgan wanted time, it was the least he could do for her.

It takes nearly three months after Tony’s death then Morgan came to him one day.

He was just spending several days at the Starks’ house and Pepper has allowed him access to the workshop in the basement so he took his chance for improving his webshooters and examining some planned codes for Karen, his helpful artificial intelligence. 

Because of his senses, he sensed Morgan’s presence before the girl let him know about herself but he continued with his work like he didn’t know about her. He could feel the sharp, watchful look in his back when he was standing at the door for a few minutes before doing a few steps towards him.

Now he laid the screwdriver and the shooter we was fixing down. Morgan wasn’t stupid and he knew she knows about his powers so pretending he didn’t notice her when she was standing so close didn’t make sense.

He turned so he was sitting sideways to her wiped his hands greasy from oil to work pants and sat back against the chair with a smile on his face. “Hi, Morgan.”

The five year old girl didn’t return smile, nor his greeting. In her deep brown eyes something shone, maybe sincere interest, Peter hoped. One thin strand of her dark auburn hair was tucked behind her ear, the others just fall freely over her shoulders. “What’re you doing here?” she asked, her eyes fixed on his own.

It wasn’t what he was expecting but he could go with it. He’s taken everything what was given to him. “I’m ust repairing my webshooters, see? I managed to damage them on the last patrol.” It was a stupid mistake which however someone caught on their phone and in modified version as a twenty minute loop posted on YouTube. Ned nearly peed himself with laughter when he reached the video but Peter couldn’t blame him. After all, he squatted on a fire hydrant when the thing exploded and threw him to the air. He landed badly and one of the fragile components in the webshooters cracked but he didn’t want to risk anything, hence the early repairs.

Morgan shook her head, pursed her lips and arched her eybrows. Without the cold n her face he would tell she looks cute. “No,” she objected, sounding a little bit confused, “I don’t think it like that. What are you doing _here_?”

Oh.

It could have occured him she would want why he is in her dad’s workshop, but it still didn’t. But he was so used to work at Tony’s workshop from the times before the five years that he didn’t even think that it might bother Morgan.

“I’m careful,” he assured her after a while. “Pepper’s allowed me to come here.”

She sighed. “You still don’t get me,” she shook her head. Then quietly, but he still heard her because of his hearing, added: “Everybody says you’re smart…”

He clenched his fist but other than that he didn’ show he heard her words. “Will you explain it to me then, please?” he asked, not knowing what she wanted to say with her words.

He swung on her heels as if she wasn’t sure whether to step in or out, and eventually stayed where she stood. “Why are you in our house, anyway? Why are you going here?” Despite her attitude, her voice was decisive, fearlessly firm.

But Peter could only blink. If he didn’t understand before, now Morgan’s confused him even more. “Um, I…” He found himseld unable to formulate an answer.

Why he was even here? Even before he spent more time with Tony than Pepper, yet he becomes closer to her and at his days off occupies her home. He’s perceived the Starks as his family, even though Tony was no longer part of it.

Morgan was standing still and waiting for an adequate answer and he concluded she deserved some, and what better he could offer her than the true one? “Because Tony is my family, same with Pepper and you.”

She still stood here, literally staring at him, then she shook her head, turned around and left without another words.

Peter sighed. He didn’t say anything, just watched her go away. Not even after minutes he couldn’t bring himself back to work, so he just put his head in his hands and his elbows on the table.


	3. ~2~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan breathed sharply and then she quickly, yet clearly started: “Do you know why my dad sacrificed himself?”
> 
> He blinked in surprise, the image of Tony sitting on the ground with empty look in his eyes flashed in front of his eyes for a while, once again he heard when his heart stopped beating and stayed still. “Because he’s a hero,” he said, voice hoarse. “Because he saved the whole universe by that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments! I didn’t expecting this so it took me by surprise. You’re great, you know that?

When Morgan confronted him for the second time three days later, they were sitting in the living room. The silence they both inaubidly agreed on satisfied them. Morgan was drawing and Peter was reading, even though he was slightly disturbed by a conversation of May, Happy and Pepper, who were sitting outside on the porch.

He tried to concentrate, he really did, but the book wasn’t that interesting and he absorbed pieces of the conversation as well as if the three adults were talking in the living room. He knew eavestropping is impolite, but it wasn’t like he could just turn off his hearing. 

So when he for the third time read one and the same sentence without remembering one word from the text, he was quite glad the little Stark suddenly straightened and turned in his direction. Without thinking, Peter reached for a bookmark, shut the book and laid it aside.

“Peter?”

“Yes, Morgan?”

He watched how she was putting a crayon on the table and turning so she can sit facing him. Only a few steps separated them so no one had to get up.

Peter was sincerely curious what has Morgan wanted to tell him. He didn’t observe much from their last conversation and still couldn’t tell what Morgan’s attitude towards him was. He was hoping that when he tell her how he’s seen the Starks, maybe the ice melt and she opens up to him.

But that didn’t happen yet and actually wasn’t looking like it could happen. At the same time, he did not wanted to urge her, he was aware the proces had to be natural or she could close herself and doesn’t talk to him at all.

Morgan breathed sharply and then she quickly, yet clearly started: “Do you know why my dad sacrificed himself?”

He blinked in surprise, the image of Tony sitting on the ground with empty look in his eyes flashed in front of his eyes for a while, once again he heard when his heart stopped beating and stayed still. “Because he’s a hero,” he said, voice hoarse. “Because he saved the whole universe by that.”

But she disapprovingly shook her head and her look was bitter and full of hate and rage when she corrected him: “No,” she objected silently, but with every other word her voice grew stronger, grew with bitterness and childish innocence at the same time. “Daddy promised he will stay with us. He left us only so he could save you. He’d preferred some random boy over his own daughter. He was my daddy and you took him away from me.”

_You are the reason Tony Stark is dead._

The weight that pushed his chest was now crushing him. How he would like to defense himself, to say it isn’t the truth, that Tony is a hero and he did it for everyone…

He knew Morgan is right. Morgan was Tony’s second chance which he gave up because of him. Because of nobody from Queens.

He couldn’t get rid of the guilt that kept him awake at night and made him wake up from nightmares.

He failed and Tony paid for it with his own life.

Morgan was paying for it.

Lost in thoughts, he stayed like that that long he didn’t even notice when Morgan turned away, breathing heavily, and stamped to her room, nor he didn’t notice when exactly he started to cry until the tears ran down from his cheeks and soaked his clothing.

He sat there until the sun went down and he heard the door creak which meant the adults were coming back to the house. Only then he grabbed his book and with lightning speed vanished down to the workshop so no one could see his red eyes and still rolling ters.

Slowly but clearly, he started understand that Morgan feels hatred towards him. Hatred enormous sizes unprecedented with someone so young and innocent like her. Bitterness and anger in her childish face, the look reserved just for him, pure emotions that could’t be false.

He couldn’t say he was surprised, after all, he blamed himself for Tony’s death. If he, back at the Titan, tried more, no one of this would happen at all. He’d had the gauntled, held it in his hands, it slipped from Thanos’ fingers. If he had pulled more, he would get it. It wouldn’t be any five years, half of the universe wouldn’t be dead. Tony and Natasha wouldn’t be dead.

If he was better, Tony could see his daugter grow up.


	4. ~3~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He sobbed, lowered his head in defeat. His legs couldn’t hold the weight of his broken soul, he fell onto his knees. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I’m sorry, Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First hints of self-harming. I warned you, guys.

_“We won, Mr. Stark. You did it.”_

_The stolid, glassy look in his eyes. As if he wasn’t here already. With every second were his breaths shorter and shorter._

_“I’m sorry, Tony.”_

_The last silent ‘bam’ which no one other than him haven’t have a chance to hear was lost in the shadow of unspoken words and feelings. His word just collapsed in front of his eyes and he couldn’t do anything because it was late now, it was too late._

_He wanted to shout, wanted to scream into the world that this isn’t right, that he doesn’t deserve it. That it shouldn’t be like that, not now, not once, not any other time._

_He desperately pressed his hands to his chest. Despite the endless stream of tears, he clearly saw the motionless body in front of him. Tony stared at him, eyes wide open and full of fury and wrath. “If it wasn’t you,” he heard him say, “Morgan would have a dad.”_

_He sobbed, lowered his head in defeat. His legs couldn’t hold the weight of his broken soul, he fell onto his knees. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I’m sorry, Tony.”_

Peter gasped and with muffled cry leaped to seated position. He immediately clogged his mouth to quite his sobs on minimum and didn’t wake up May sleeping in her own room.

Carefully, trying causing as little noises as possible, he slipped of his bed to the ground. In corner of his eye he noticed a blaked lying next to him, he most likely kicked it away at night as always.

Peter slammed his back against a wall. He pulled hes knees to his body and ran a hand through his hair. He was gasping for air which his lungs refused to accept although he needed it.

The panic attack was coming and if he doesn’t calm himself, he won’t make it alone.

However, constantly repeated nightmares and night terrors ripping him from sleep taught him how to chase panic coming by lightning speed away. He sank his nails into his palms, deep into the flesh, until he felt blood and pain which reminded him he’s whole, he is not turning into dust, and at the same time he searched for a regular beating of May’s heart.

May. She was alright, only one room away. She was asleep, she didn’t suspect anything.

Good, it was good.

It took him several long seconds before he could breath properly, but his lungs sucked the oxygen like a sponge.

He roved from site to site and in attempt to orient. He was in his new room in Queens, in New York, on Earth. 

He carefully stood up and when he found out he was standing firmly on his feet, he quickly jumped to a window, with one sharp movement opened it and jumped out. He caught himself on a wall right by, nimbly climbed the short distance to the roof and there collapsed on his back.

With slowly silencing breathing he watched the sky. There were almost no stars in the town, they were replaced by lights of skyscrapers and, much higher in the sky, by planes.

He closed his eyes for a while, and when he opened them half a minute later, he was holding his hands stretched above himself, like he desired touch the sky.

Maybe he hadn’t have the stars within view, but the scars covering his forearms were shining in the dark like they were woven from moonbeams.

If anyone find out about this, that would be bad. Peter the scars, which he had caused himself, kept as a secret. He was aware that self-harm is never a solution, but he couldn’t help it.

Some nights were… bad. He needed to be sure he’s in one piece, that he isn’t falling apart into dust. He needed to get rid of the fear the night terrors brought along – the fear of dreams and that he’ll lose control of his strenght after he wakes up and breaks something or hurts someone else.

And some nights, like was this one, he just had to look at the sky and think.

He didn’t remember when was the last time he slept for more than three hours in a row per night. He woke up screaming and gasping and tried to make as little noises as possible so May didn’t suspect anything. At least the last one was he doing well, for which he was glad; he didn’t want to worry her.

He sighed. He knew what caused this dream. Morgan and Pepper were in New York for a few days and Peter with May were invited for dinner to their apartment, together with Happy and Rhodey.

He considered canceling, but he knew Pepper would be disappointed and he couldn’t get over it.

He stayed on the roof until dawn, then picked himself up and unnoticed slipped through the window back into his room.

–~~–

He wasn’t expecting the dinner to going so… calm. There was a pleasant atmosphere and he remained silent most of the time while the others conversed and laughed. Even Morgan managed to smile at the right moment, while kicking him in the legs under the table for good twenty minutes.

Peter didn’t pay attention to the talk until he heard his name.

“Peter,” Rhodey turned to him, “have you thought about which university you want to go?”

He looked up hrom his plate, slowly putting a fork away. “I’d want apply for MIT or Harvard,” he answered quickly to chase away the silence. He didn’t lie, though, he’d wanted to study at MIT from everlasting, which May could confirm.

“Good choice,” smirked Rhodey. “I’m sure they’ll take you to MIT. And if they take Ned, too, you can go together, that’s the best. I met Tony at MIT and I can say that the professors were going crazy because of us, him especially. I doubt that with you two it’ll be different.”

Regardless Morgan’s murderous look, Peter had to laugh. He heard some stories from the times when Tony and Rhodey studied. “No, it won’t be,” he agreed. “Maybe more likely worse.”

Happy mumbled something like “Dear god” and the others started laughing alongside him. Their laughter suddenly died when Morgan stood up. “When I grow up,” she started, “I’ll study at MIT, just like daddy.”

“That goes without saying,” approved Rhodey. “Every single Tony’s kid has to graduate at MIT, there is just no other way.”

“But Peter isn’t daddy’s son.”

The words were like a bullet hit; quickly shot, aimed at the righ place, and buried deep under the skin.

For a while, a pin could be heard droppend in the room, before Pepper, terror in her eyes, straightened up and pointed a finger at her daughter, voice stern: “Morgan Stark, you can’t say such thin –”

“It’s alright,” Peter interrupted her in the middle of a word, no matter how much he longed to say it wasn’t alright. “She’s right. Maybe I’m not Tony’s son, but family isn’t always blood.” He smiled at the end, putting in all sincerity he could collect. He learnt a long time ago that family doesn’t mean relation. May was family, and they didn’t share the same blood. Ned was family.

The Starks were family.

Pepper looked at him with concern, anxiously bitting her lip, but when Peter just slightly shook his head in a sign that it really is fine (even though it isn’t), she let it be.

However the vigour with which Morgan once again kicked him clearly indicated she stood by her opinion.

After all, it wasn’t like she was wrong. Tony wasn’t Peter’s dad.

That wasn’t anyone anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I once again want to thank you so much for kudos and comments. I’m like “what the heck, people?” :D


	5. ~4~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James went to the bathroom. Just the bathroom, stupid five minutes. Peter still got nervous the very first moment he was alone with Morgan.
> 
> And rightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, I’ve had a hard time translating this chapter, so I hope there isn’t that much mistakes... I’m not entirely sure especially with the last few paragraphs, so... I’m sorry if it doesn’t make any sense. :’D

Rhodey took them to the Georgia Aquarium in Atlanta saying he wants to spend at least some time alone with his niece and unofficial nephew. (Despite Morgan’s statement, all adults claimed Tony saw Peter as his son, and it wasn’t like Peter didn’t percieve him as his dad in return, so he couldn’t quite argue.)

Peter held the view that you are never too old for an aquarium. Besides, it was the principle, just that Rhodes took also him warmed his heart.

Regardless of the warm day, Peter didn’t remove his sweatshirt throughout. Long sleeves covered his scars which not even his accelerated healing couldn’t heal without lifelong damage of his skin due to constant increase and repeated cutting.

It was nice to, for once, throw majority of worries away and watch various sea creatures unconcernedly swimming in water. Althought one time he felt how his chest anxiously clenched when they were walking under a glass tunnel where were sharks sailing above their heads, and meanwhile he had to, by his willpower, force himself to stay calm, and reminded himself that it wasn’t like then when Toomes dropped him to the lake’s deep and he couldn’t get away from the water, but otherwise he was completely all right.

So of course the Parker Luck striked once again.

Rhodey bought a lunch for all three of them, chicken nuggets in shapes of a sea animals with chips, and all of Peter’s protests that he can pay for himself quickly cut off and scared Peter that much he just silently ate for half of the luch and watched the grinning colonel by eye.

James went to the bathroom. Just the bathroom, stupid five minutes. Peter still got nervous the very first moment he was alone with Morgan.

And rightly.

She watched her uncle attentively until he disappeared behind a corner, then she put her hands on a table they were sitting at, and leaned closer to Peter. “I was thinking,” she started silently and in him burned a small glimmer of hope which snuffed out with her next words, “why you just can’t die?”

He opened his mouth in shock, unable to utter a single decent word, not even any sound. He froze, rooted to the spot by her words. He swallower restlessly, laid his raised hand down on the table as if he was afraid that the merest sharp movement would result in a loss of control over his own power.

“Daddy went to the battle because of you,“ Morgan continued hatefully, a grimace on her face, as if Peter’s existence itself disgusted her, “he died and you returned. So when you die, he’ll return.”

He wanted to tell her that death doesn’t work like that. That if his death means that Tony’ll live, he’d do it a long time ago.

But didn’t it really work like that? After all, Morgan was right. Peter Parker came back to life and Tony Stark died. And if this wasn’t enough as an example, what about Gamora? She also came to live, sort of, after Natasha sacrificed herself for the Soul Stone.

“I thought you loved my daddy, so why don’t you want him to be alive?”

Maybe he would’ve answered, if he finds the right words to express his feelings and thoughts, but Morgan suddenly pulled away from him and Rhodey sat down back to his seat. “What’re you two intrig – Peter?” he frowned in worry. “Are you alright?”

His worries ripped him out of trance. He turned to him, eyes like two saucers, and quickly came with the first lie that occured him: “Uh? Yeah, yes, sorry, I just, uh, a memory, you know, from certain moment I don’t like water and so,” he stuttered.

Although Rhodey didn’t seem to believe him completely, he nodded because he knew that the superhero work takes its toll and memories and panic attack can come at any moment, even though there isn’t anything at the moment what can trigger them. 

He had worries when Peter was silent as a grave for the rest of their trip, now and then he thoughtfully ran his fingers over his forearms or clenched his nails into his palms or thighs, but he decided to don’t point it out. After all, one bad day didn’t have to mean anything.

And it also could’ve meant everything.


	6. ~5~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’re you doing here?” she asked quietly.
> 
> “I want to bring Tony back,” he sobbed, large tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’m trying, Morgan, trust me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I hate conditional clauses. It’s so goddamn hard to translate... Especially when I write like four-line sentences in Czech. 
> 
> Btw, are you crazy? Over 70 kudos and 1 500 hits? Wow. Love ya!

Peter wasn’t himself anymore.

With each passing day, he was sinking deeper and deeper into himself, into his thoughts, into the dark corners of his mind which was once so lucid and bright.

His heart was getting heavier with every beat, guilt opressed him and a sense of failure tormented him. 

From not stopping Tony, from not taking his position. From not being able to bring himself to pull the trigger when he was holding a gun at his head, or that he just couldn’t do the one liberating move by a steel blade alongside his wrist.

He had so much opportinutuies to die. He could jump under a train, he could not dodge a bullet, he could not run away from burning house after he evacuated all civilians. He risked his life every day, the content of his work _was_ risking his life.

Then why was he still alive?

That he didn’t know.

But he knew the others were starting to notice his unusual behaviour. They noticed his apathetic conditions, the absence of his non-ending stream of words and the circles under his eyes, and it was just a matter of time when May finds the blades and razors hidden under his bed, when they find out in how dilapidated condition are his mind and soul.

He was wery much aware that if he wants to do it, he has to do it sooner then someone forbids him to do it. Before someone tries to frustrate his plan.

When someone first caught him with a shard pressed against a vein of his left hend, he was sleeping over at the lake house.

He woke up after one of the worst nightmares he’d dreamt about so far, and immediately ran to the bathroom where he barely had time to collapse to his knees and vomit. The moment the nausea left him, he stood up shakily, holding onto the washbasin which deformed to the shape of his fingers.

He almost didn’t see through tears, but he heard a glass shattering when he desperately punched the mirror whose shards flew all around him, reflecting dim light like they were only harmless crystals.

He grabbed the nearest fragment, slid his back down the wall, legs wrinkled, and held the piece of glass in his shaking hands above his vein.

One move would be enough.

However, it didn’t come, instead he heard familiar footsteps and Morgan’s ruffled head appeared in the bathroom door. With wrinkled forehead, she watched the mess, she didn’t understand, didn’t suspect, that unsullied she was.

How could Peter have tarnish her innocent soul by watching him deprive himself of his own life?

“What’re you doing here?” she asked quietly.

“I want to bring Tony back,” he sobbed, large tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’m trying, Morgan, trust me. I wanna die.”

“But daddy still isn’t here,” she accused him. “Try harder! Why haven’t you die yet?”

“Morgan,” he looked at her, brown eyes red from crying and lack of sleep, voice pleeding, beseeching, “please, if you leave now, I promise you won’t hear about me anymore. I’ll try to get your dad back, please, just turn around and go.”

It was worth a try. He’d do anything, anything so Morgan can be happy, anything so Tony Stark can be back among the living ones, and maybe when it worked once, they could make a deal with the death for the second time, couldn’t they?

Morgan puffed, but turned and ran away. Peter listened to her footsteps that led down the stairs where she interrupted Happy, Rhodey and Pepper, who were quietly communicating with each other.

Peter stood up, shut and locked the bathroom’s door and then sat back to his previous spot. He closed his eyes, he was starting to breath regularly. He felt pressure on his wrist when a sharp edge of the shard pushed on his skin. He listened to the silent conversation from below and beatings of four hearts accelerating with every word.

_“Morgan! Why aren’t you sleeping?”_

_“Because Peter wants to bring daddy back, mommy! He said it!”_

_“Morgan, sweetheart, it isn’t possible. You know that.”_

_“No, mom, dad did it. Peter just has to die and dad will live. It’s the same principle!”_

Peter heard how their hearts jumped. He heard the frightening silence that settled between them for a second, chairs creaked against the floor as they struggled to stand and run up.

Now or never.

With one rapid move, he cut through the soft skin on his wrist, right through veins and arteries.

Peter knew pain. He knew how stab wound hurts. But this was… something different.

From a distance, he could hear banging on the door and urgent pleas resounding from outside when he opened his eyes and stared at the blood spurting from the wound and red puddle forming around. He was still cluthing the crimson coloured shard between fingers of his right hand without releasing his grip, shock was engulfing his body.

He thought he’d heard a loud bang, but he couldn’t care less. Suddenly several persons surrounded him, someone was shouting to call the ambulance, someone was trying to throttle his wounds and into all of that, he heard some panicking voice. “Morgan, go away, now. Peter, no, come on, fight, stay with us, help is on the way, _come on_.”

He should fight, but why? He didn’t want to, not anymore.

He was so damn tired.

Especially of himself.

He hated himself for all his failures, he hated the guilt that was crushing his chest, he hated Tony for dying and himself still couldn’t being able to find a way how to bring him back.

But it didn’t matter now. All sounds, all lights and all disturbing stimuli were floating away from him, he was losing himself in a sea of growing darkness, they were disappearing on the horizon.

The only thing he could think about when was all rutning into a void and his life was slowly leaving him, was that even though everyting what tormented him will end, he didn’t fulfil the promise he gave himself, the promise he gave Tony and Morgan.

_I’m sorry I wasn’t the brother you needed, Morgan._

_I’m sorry I couldn’t make your doughter happy, Tony._

_I’m sorry Tony Stark died because of me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that suicide IS NEVER A SOLUTION. If you’re depressed, if you have doubts about yourself or anything, just talk with someone, with anyone. It doesn’t have to be a specialist, a friend, a parent or a sibiling is enough – hell, sometimes even random person you meet on the internet. You have always more options. Don’t get influence yourself by negative words from others.   
> I know it, I went through byllying – well, I am psychologically bullied at school, my classmates are assaulting me with their words, so I know the feeling. So I know that maybe it isn’t always easy, but suicide really isn’t a solution. :)


	7. ~6~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one time Morgan didn’t say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I wasn’t expecting your interest into this at first. But... oh my, thank you!

At first, Morgan Stark didn’t know what she had done wrong. She didn’t know how much weight can have words of hatred uttered by someone you value as your family.

A few days after Peter’s death, they found recorded messages, not dissimilar the Tony’s, and one of them was for her.

Her mommy and uncles, even Peter’s aunt have watched it with her, their looks were growing more and more terrified when they were listening to Peter’s pleas for forgiveness when he couldn’t return Morgan her dad, when he wasn’t that brother she deserved.

They cried when he was kneeling and reminding her that no matter what, none of it was Morgan’s fault, that she was right the whole time.

That if there was a chance that Tony’ll come back to life, he was willing to try anything, he was repeating again and again.

Only then the bitternes and hate in her heart partially wore off, they were melting like pieces of glacier, and she had nothing to reproach Peter for once, she had no one to blame for her father’s death.

And for once, Peter’s words remained without response. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone copes with trauma in a different way, especially kids. Morgan was living in post-apocalyptic word and in the end, she had to grow up without her father. Instead of him, from the battlefield returned a boy she only heard about for five years, so of course her mind got two and two together and blamed Peter that Tony didn’t return.  
> At least, I see it like that and think about it like that.


End file.
